


Nothing Fucks With My Baby

by ClaraTheFabulous



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon, Demon Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Established Relationship, I'm not really sure what they do in this story, Inspired by Music, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not youtube creators, Shane is a demon, they just kinda kick ass and take names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraTheFabulous/pseuds/ClaraTheFabulous
Summary: "But also I kind of just wanted to subvert idea of being in love with somebody and feeling like you have to protect somebody…as a dude, ‘Nothing can harm you. Et cetera. I’ll protect you!’ In this it’s not. It’s ‘You can’t be harmed.’It’s nothing to do with me, this person is just genuinely terrifying. And you love them for it.”-Hozier





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Ryan saw something paranormal was in a small suburban home in the nowhere region of Kansas. Unable to sleep, he had been staring at the wall for hours. Shane had long fell asleep behind him, he could feel the deep breathing against his neck. At first he thought he was going insane, his mind playing tricks and manipulating darkness into shapes. The corner was darker than the rest. He could barely make out the outline of the dark figure. What was clearer was the Cheshire grin, brightly out of place in the ill-lit home. 

 

He was sure Shane could feel the rise and fall of his chest, now racing. Shane's breathing stilled behind him, as his hand ran up Ryan's chest, dipping under his shirt. A grip on his hip conveyed the obvious: _mine_. With a quick kiss delivered gently to his temple, Ryan watched as Shane bended his knees, got his feet under him, and finally assumed his full height, all six feet unfolding slowly, spine tall. He cracked his neck, calmly rolling his head. Ryan could see his vertebrae press against the skin at the side of his neck, his eyes going black like watercolor paint. The Cheshire grin in the corner flickered as a newfound mischief arrived on Shane's face. Ryan knew that face intimately. He looked at Ryan through the side of his eye as the young girl, with the flick of a finger, folded in on herself. She sunk through the floor.

 

Shane got back into bed with a delicate kiss delivered high on Ryan's cheekbone and a hand delivered high on his thigh.

 

_Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves  
Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes_

-

The second time, Ryan was scared. On their small island, disconnected from the rest of the world, a mountain in the distance began to move. It dribbled torrents of earth, red hot, steaming rivers, evaporating oceans. It dragged its claws through the loam in front of it, attempting to pull itself farther out of the ground in which it was buried. As it pulled, ranges formed. As it sat, it created craters. As it ate, valleys appeared. As it advanced, it gradually assumed more of the horizon, a dark glacier marching forward. 

 

The sounds were deafening. The screams, the scraping rocks, the final exhales of thousands. It sounded like an earthquake, as their humble livings shivered, the very rocks around them terrified. It sounded like a thunderstorm, with deep bellows and low growls. It sounded like a hurricane, with onslaughts of destruction in its wake. The very sky split with its magnitude, a streak of black on a light gray day. 

 

A new sound appeared, though. The soft click of an emerging smile and the delicate molding of a laugh. Shane was smiling, and the sun rose. His face was sunset; The red of his cheeks and the yellow twinkle in his eyes. The sun set, at last, and Shane's eyes flicked to obsidian. 

 

God, Ryan loved him.

-

It was months later that Ryan was again reminded of the prowess just under the skin he loved so dearly. He was home, with both his wrists caught in one hand and a mouth demanding more against his collarbone. He pressed against that possessive hand and as it tightened, as he knew it would, another clawed its way against his chest, a thumb in the nook between his collar bone and his ribs, bending the tendons connecting him together. The other four fingers pressed into his shoulder, four brands. His breath caught, with nothing to move, the best of him owned, Ryan released.

 

He dazed, letting his mind wander with the knowledge that Shane, in his terrifying glory, would be there to possess him, keep him safe. He wondered if, one day, Shane would wrap his slender fingers all the way around his collar bone. Dig into his skin and come out the other side, like a wolf tearing apart its prey, hard won and greatly deserved. He already knew the weak spots on his joints, where he could press to make the entire animal go weak. Where, if he chased long enough, pushed hard enough, Ryan would collapse in defeat. He was already whimpering, an injured calf, weak and oh-so-easy to catch. He wondered if, one day, Shane would reach inside him and grasp his heart, finally claiming what is rightfully his. 

Shane growled, low, reverberating throughout Ryan's body, and bit just under his jawline. Ryan knew, just knew, that a bite, a grip, a scratch, just a bit harder, would leave him bleeding out, dying, completely helpless to stop it, and his head rushed in joy. Well, isn't that just electrifying?

 

 

_Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay_

-

The fourth time that he knew he was completely, utterly, helplessly, in love, was when he was attacked. He was watching his toes at the time, as they slipped into the carpet and disappeared from view. He had been on his way back, towards Shane, that's all that matters. He forgets why he left their room in the first place, why he bothered to leave Shane's abnormally warm chest and slender arms. He's so focused on getting up the stairs and into the room that he doesn't notice when a faint hissing starts. He doesn't notice when a dark cloud begins to swallow the stairs behind him. He doesn't notice when the cloud licks up the stairs, against the railing, swallows his heels. He only notices when it gets a grip on his neck, yanking his head backwards into a great abyss. 

 

His breathing skyrockets. He feels the being pull him off the step and curls his toes in the weak grip he can muster. It, too, grabs his wrists and pulls them painfully behind his back. With a tendril around his wrist, around his neck, even across his mouth, he knows he is not helpless. He may not have heard the original hissing, but he damn well hears the low rumbling as it starts, shaking the whole house. He can't see, the abyss has swallowed his eyes. He hears the whispering close to his ear better than he hears Shane's shouting from just a few stairs away. 

 

"Nothing fucks with him" 

 

And with that and a vision of Shane's black eyes, Ryan comes crashing down. He is scooped up and cradled close to Shane's chest.

 

_I'd wanna be felled by you_

_Held by you_

_Fuel the pyre of your enemies_

 


	2. From Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after such an awesome response from all of you from the last chapter, I wanted to add Shane's perspective. I picked the absolute best one, From Eden. It's a great song that's actually about the devil falling in love and I think there's a Hozier song for every weird situation.
> 
> I read all comments! I love to find more people talking about stuff I write and I absolutely loved your feedback on the last chapter, so please leave me more nuggets if you have any thoughts you want to share!

The first time he saw the small man, the bantam human was scared. So delectably scared, enticing fear, with a heartbeat fast like a hunted rabbit, just waiting for something to pounce. It was adorable to watch as the diminutive man sensed the shadow lurking behind him, as he sensed claiming tendrils creeping up his ribs and, like a goat driven off a cliff, jumped. He knew he was a dark hand print. He seldom found a reason to approach, seldom reached ever so slightly to wrap his fingers around the pure essence of a soul. Time is irrelevant to him, like drawing the difference between the very atoms that make up the ocean, but he knew it was a very long while since he imprinted. 

 

He knew not why. He had never done so before, never felt so drawn, but he as he decided the decision hardened into indisputable facts. As the small man walked gently around the house, jackrabbit fast heartbeat but loath footsteps, he gathered his energy in the room adjacent. Matter mattered little to a being such as him, simply a backdrop for the energy he controlled. But as he gathered the carbon, oxygen, hydrogen into structures, cells, organs, he felt the air suffocating him. With his new nervous system, he found the air tangible, the floor beneath oppressive. He began to feel a tingling sensation in his newly formed lungs and found himself at a loss of what he could possibly do. As his love would adore later, his long legs found themselves helpless in supporting their newfound weight, and he collapsed to the floor.

 

_Babe, there's something lonesome about you_  
_Something so wholesome about you_  
_Get closer to me_

 

Hands. So curious in their construction. He remembers a conversation he had with a man. He cannot remember when, likely millennia ago, where the man spoke of the versatility of hands. He found them disgusting at first, joints thrown about, as if someone shoved as many angles as possible. The man in the conversation spoke adoringly of them, of his own creation. He remembers that part clearly. The man was a complete narcissist, completely proud of anything and everything he produced. In the present, hands were gently cupping his face, feeling his cheeks in such an incredibly human fashion. He may not have a fully developed ear canal yet, or perhaps not all of the sensory organs necessary, but he definitely notices when those hands change shape. Morphing from calloused fingers on his cheeks to a gentle press of lips on his. 

 

He recalls two lovers that he watched, years ago. Fairly recently, on his timeline. He recalls their gentle presses of lips, the way they regarded each other's mouths as an altar on which to worship. He recalls their words, formed with care, made love to, and delivered like a kiss. 

 

This is nothing like that. The kiss forms a seal across his newly developed mouth and begins to pump that awful, suffocating air directly into his mouth! He realizes his mistake. The one thing he forgot to do, as a new physical being, is that all physical beings must breathe. 

 

The plight was worthwhile, however, as he found a new way to  _sense_. to  _feel._ And one day, few years later, that petite man would form a laugh with care, make love to it, and deliver it gently.

 

_Babe, there's something wretched about this_  
_Something so precious about this_  
_Where to begin?_

 -

He becomes Shane Madej, a meaningless jumble of audible noises, but it seems to please the small man. The small man wanted to be called Ryan. Ryan Bergara. What a strange combination of syllables, but he nevertheless finds himself forging them in his mouth throughout the day. Day. Time becomes important. When Ryan is awake, it is day, when he is asleep, it is night. Simple. 

 

But oh how he loves the rhythm behind this new garden that he has found. When Ryan is awake, they lay in the grass and hold hands. On occasion, Shane will glance over and find the object of his fawning gleaming at him, wide eyed. That jackrabbit heart, the spark of his affections, rarely crawls above a slow stride.

 

But his favorite activity to do during the day, on their small island with miles and miles of ocean between them and the rest of the world, is to creep his fingers along his love's chest, across his shoulders, down his arms, up his wrists, and press just below the vein. He watches as his ambrosia melts into the grass beneath, as the gentle rhythm lurking below his skin slows even further, as his neck cranes up in the smallest movement possible, a prayer in perfect parody. With angelic grace, Shane descends upon that driven snow and melts it's purely white innocence. 

 

_To the strand, a picnic planned for you and me_

-

 It was after one of these mornings, after the sun had gone to sleep, that Ryan asked him to tell him a story. Such a curious creature, Ryan was. His inquisitive eyes like a young calf, Shane often found himself following Ryan around the island as he greeted the animals individually. He loved those mornings.

 

A story offered a unique challenge. Shane knew not the length of his life, nor when he was created. Likely close to the beginning of the universe, he still remembers the inescapable fire of god's forge in the concoction of all things. Ryan frequently reminds him of those days, his purity and faith admirable. Shane remembers when he himself was so willing to trust what he saw, the unwillingness to refute the existing power structures.   
  


It is for this reason that he cannot tell a story. He cannot reveal why they are on this island, miles and miles away from the rest of the universe. For he knows exactly how powerful power can be, and how untrustworthy the deities are. It is for this reason that he dragged Ryan here, as well. Such faith, such innocence, cannot seek the destructive forces he saw so gruesomely. 

 

It is for this reason that when Ryan asked him to tell him a story, he smiled, turned, and appropriated his lips.

 

_Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago_   
_Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword_   
_Innocence died screaming_   
_Honey, ask me, I should know_   
_I slithered here from Eden_   
_Just to sit outside your door_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watchin the ghoul boys lately and also listening to Hozier's new album and a stroke of inspiration caused this. I just really love the idea of Ryan being totally owned by Shane and completely loving it.
> 
> Also I apparently really like sunlight metaphors. I wrote a whole thing where a character was sunshine and I apparently am not done with it yet. So look back for that if ya missed it.


End file.
